America Is Goodthinkful
by RikaFurude13
Summary: America is the world symbol of freedom and equality. He is the hero, and he is the leader. But something sinister is happening to the boisterous young nation, and it's up to the rest of the nations to save him from his downfall before it is too late. AU. Themes present from Orwell's 1984. Is there romance? No idea! But there is America/Britain bro-ness!
1. Chapter 1

AN: Hello, everybody, and welcome to my first Hetalia fanfiction. This idea has always intrigued me. For those of you who don't know, 1984 (by George Orwell) is a story about a negative utopia- with Big Brother and the Party. It is an amazing book with an exemplary theme, and I wholly recommend it to everyone. Now, in 1984, this happens in England. However, I changed it to America because 1) I know about America more, and 2) the contrast between the old and the new governments and personas would be most noticeable with Alfred than Arthur.

I use human names every once in a while; these are the basic ones:

America-Alfred

England-Arthur

Germany-Ludwig

Italy-Feliciano

Japan-Kiku

Russia-Ivan

China-Yao

-Only Alfred is used in this chapter. The others are listed just in case I use them later on in the story.

I usually don't write such long notes... I'm not entirely sure what to do with this, I only have the skeletal ideas sketched out. I'm not a review-begger, so you'll only see me say this once: Please review! Any and all criticism (constructive only) is welcome, and this is your story as much as mine, so do not be afraid to tell me your ideas! I hope you enjoy this first chapter/prologue!

* * *

"EVERYBODY, SHUT UP!" Germany boomed, slamming his hands down on the conference table angrily. England and France had been arguing again, Italy was annoying virtually _everybody _in the room, China was offering his snacks at the top of his lungs, Russia was terrorizing the Baltics, and there was noise _everywhere_. At least, until Germany's livid outburst.

"Now," Germany said, calming down. "Can we get this meeting over with so we can go back to our own lives?"

"Um... Germany?" asked France.

"What?" responded Germany, with clenched teeth, wanting to punch the man straight in his pretty face.

"It's nothing... just that somebody's missing."

Germany sighed. "I really don't think that Canada has anything worthwhile to contribute to this meeting, anyway."

"It's not Canada. It's America. I don't see him anywhere. Is he sick?"

Germany froze, then looked around the room at the familiar faces- all of them, save for America's. No wonder the chaos was less heated than normal... The usual chorus of "dude"s weren't present in the argument, and all of England's attention had been focused on France alone.

"Hmm... he's always trying to be early. It's so weird that he wouldn't be here, aru," observed China, eating a cracker thoughtfully.

Germany sighed once more. "We shouldn't worry about it. It's his fault he's late. Let's get this meeting over with and we can fill him in when he decides to show up."

The rest of the countries nodded apprehensively. None of them wanted to admit it, but the atmosphere in the room was strange without the almost overwhelming presence of America. They all commenced with the meeting, waiting impatiently for America to show up so things could be more normal and less... awkward.

However, America didn't show up. Germany concluded the meeting eloquently. It had gone much more smoothly without America's constant shouts of "I'm the hero!" and other ridiculous statements that everybody was used to, but it was still a very uncomfortable experience. America had never missed a world meeting since his independence, and everybody was already used to his being there. The only ones that didn't act differently were Italy, who seemed oblivious to America's absence and carried on like usual, and Russia, who probably didn't care either way.

Everybody went home like usual, except for England. He was fidgety during the entire conference, and he couldn't help but think that something might have happened to his little brother. Although it probably was not that big of a deal, he felt that _something_ was off. He arrived at Washington D.C., knowing instinctively that America was in the White House. He entered the building, meeting little resistance, which surprised him. Usually, there was almost too much security around the building, but today it seemed easier to get in. He nervously knocked on the door of America's boss. "Mr. President?" he asked politely. "Do you, by any chance, know where America is?"

Hearing no answer, he opened the door, looking into the room. Normally, he wouldn't have barged in like he did, but he was also very impatient. Perhaps he and his little brother did not have the best relationship, but he was determined to make some sort of amends, and he would always feel bad for himself if something bad happened to America before he was able to do anything.

England furrowed his brows in thought, seeing that the room was empty. Chills ran down his back, for some unexplainable reason. He turned back, looking into the dim hallway, looking for any signs of the president, noticing that some of the lights in the hallway were flickering slightly. He frowned. There was absolutely nobody around, not even a measly assistant frantically getting coffee for someone.

"Hello?" he asked into the open air, loudly. "Alfred, where are you? I know you're here. If you're ill, then just tell me. I'm worried for you."

England began to shiver. The absence of life in the building was beginning to creep him out. England pondered his situation- he wasn't about to tell America and his boss how to run their own country, and if they felt like letting everybody have a day off, England wasn't about to stop them. It was weird, but America had a history of being... plain weird, so there wasn't much that was strange about it, when he looked at the big picture. Perhaps America was just being childish and felt like he should abstain from the meeting for some reason, or, even more likely, he may have forgot. Either way, England didn't care so much that he would scour the entire building for him...he may like magic and other strange things, but even he was afraid of the eerie quietness of the halls, and he just wanted to get out of there. So he did.

* * *

America sighed, hearing England leave. That incorrigible brute. The one day he decided not to go to a world meeting, and they immediately get all worried and concerned. What about the one time Italy overslept and didn't show up? Or when Japan got the flu and was bedridden for five days? Nobody went on a search party for _them_. America stopped his musing. Wait. He was upset because somebody _wanted _to look for him? Why was he mad at England again? America let out a frustrated sigh and rubbed his head. He really wasn't feeling well.

He left the building, aware he was being watched. But as long as he didn't say anything, then nobody would know what he was thinking.

A large explosion was heard near him, and he covered his ringing ears protectively, sighing again at the shaking of the earth that was almost constant. He remembered the first time he had been in the vicinity of one of the Party's bomb raids; it had petrified him. But since living in D.C., he was used to the noise, the high pitched ringing, and the vibrations. A bomb was dropped a couple of times an hour, after all. The Party said it was to eliminate the impurities of the ground. America knew what they meant by that, though. It was just useless population control.

When he first learned of the Party's existence, he had been extremely angry. He had been determined to stop the advent of the totalitarian party in the political system, but, as it turned out, his bosses have been trying the stop the problem themselves without telling him for the past ten years. America no longer knew how to stop the Party- everything had gone too far. He was more prone to mood swings, and on more and more frequent, frightening occasions, he himself adopted the mindset of the Party, changing his entire persona. He would hear Big Brother's voice in his head; it comforted and scared him.

He didn't dare go to the world meetings anymore. What if he reverted to his Party persona during one? The conflict raised would be too great and too confusing for everyone present. Besides, he didn't want anybody to see him as weak. What would they think if they found out that America was no longer the universal symbol of freedom? That censorship was the main trade? The flag he had been once so proud of was replaced with the Party's slogan on a white background:

WAR IS PEACE

FREEDOM IS SLAVERY

IGNORANCE IS STRENGTH

_I suppose I know now how Russia feels sometimes_, he thought to himself, chuckling to himself without really knowing why.

Though, of course, he did a lot of things nowadays that are unexplainable. What's one more?

* * *

AN: Poor America! :( The poor guy is so confused. Oh, and before I forget, I do not own Hetalia or 1984. BIG BROTHER IS WATCHING YOU. Just so you know ;)


	2. Chapter 2

AN: Welcome back! This has a little angsty stuff. Also, if you are an Italy fan, he is also in this chapter, so woo! This chapter delves deeper into America's psyche and how the Party is beginning to mess with his mind and how he thinks. Hope you all enjoy!

* * *

England sat in his room, back in his own nation, holding a simple-framed picture of him and his younger brother, America. It was an old one, and Alfred was much younger in this picture than he was now. England felt the pang of sadness brewing in his heart, causing a few small tears to begin forming in his bright green eyes.

He had done things America hadn't liked, and America had done things England hadn't liked... but all of that was behind them now. Why was their relationship still so stagnant? Sure, America was loud and oftentimes annoying, and England couldn't help but be mad at him sometimes, but was he being too harsh on the young nation? Alfred could make decisions for himself, and, truly, Alfred's decisions had established him a position as one of the most powerful countries on Earth. America was freedom itself. He had accomplished more than England could have thought him to, and suffered all the way, also.

England sighed, setting the picture aside and running his hands through his blond hair. America knew how to fend for himself. He had proven that much. So why did England continue to feel as if America was in trouble?

England stood, stretching before leaving his room. He wasn't sure exactly who to turn to. It was obvious that America wasn't present, and none of the other nations were really on his 'friends' list. He could ask Switzerland, perhaps... or maybe Germany, even if England didn't like him so much. At least Germany was better than France... though England couldn't care less right now about who was there for him. England sighed. He needed more friends.

* * *

As soon as Italy set foot on American turf, he began to feel chills. He looked around him at the terrain, but saw nothing out of place, nothing that would indicate that he should feel nervous. "Ve... this place is scary..." Italy said to himself quietly. However much as he wanted to get out of there, he decided to stay. He considered America to be one of his friends (even if he didn't like pasta), and his absence at the world meeting had, in fact, rattled him. It was only after he bugged Germany about it that he decided to come here.

All of a sudden, a loud bang was heard, like an explosion, and Italy cried out as a horrible ringing began searing his ears with pain. He fell to the ground, clamping his hands around his head as various debris began flying around him, bumping and bruising him. After the worst of the smoke had cleared, Italy opened his eyes to inspect the damage, curious yet apprehensive as to what had just happened.

What Italy looked upon was carnage. A huge crater in the ground was barely visible, and the skyscrapers and other buildings he was able to see were completely decimated, car parts and tree branches littered the ground. Italy counted himself lucky that he was far enough away from the blast, or he would have surely died. He stood up shakily, more wary than ever. One question reigned above all others in his mind: _Why is America being bombed?_

Maybe it was a terrorist attack? Or something with radicals, like what had happened around the end of America's Progressive Reform Era. Italy hoped that it was not a big deal, that it wasn't a regular occurrence.

He was wrong.

He made his way to the top of a hill and audibly gasped at what he saw. The city below, one of the largest in America, was in ruins. Evidence of tens of bomb attacks were visible, and the streets were bare, save for the occasional fellow struggling to stay alive as they got out of the streets.

Italy shook visibly as he made his way down the hill towards the wrecked city. Fear filled him. _America's house is in this city. What if something happened to him?_

He couldn't imagine the superpower dying. America was young compared to other nations, yes, but he was such a large part of the world that Italy couldn't imagine what it would be like without him. And how would England change? Italy knew that England still regretted the fight between he and his brother, and if America was dead, what part of England would be left? Italy couldn't bear to think about how he would feel if Romano died.

Italy pushed away his rather... depressing thoughts as he continued, winding through the city to where he knew America lived, praying that if he knocked on that door, America would answer, and all would be well...

* * *

America jumped involuntarily as the clear chime of the doorbell rang throughout his modest, yet tasteful home.

_England_... his mental self hissed, but he immediately rebuked his violent mental reaction, forcing himself to feel gratitude that somebody wanted to visit him.

Unless it wasn't England.

Unless it was his boss.

Unless it was the elusive Big Brother.

Wait... didn't he want to meet Big Brother?

America shook his head to clear it and made his way over to the door, opening it quickly, wanting to get the discovery over with, like a band-aid. America stared in surprise at Italy, finger poised over the doorbell, in the process of ringing it again.

A look of pure relief flooded Italy's features as he stepped forward and gave America a tight hug.

"Alfred! You are alright! This town is all messed up, I was worried that you had gotten something knocked over your head and you couldn't remember anything and you diiiiied!"

America gently pushed Italy off of him and stepped backwards. Although he had enjoyed the impromptu hug from his friend, a part of him felt revulsion. Was the Party influencing him? Maybe he should just tell Feliciano to leave before he ended up scaring him. If he scared Italy, Germany would be after him.

But... didn't he want that? He was at war with them. Both of them. Big Brother always said so, that the monsters of Eurasia would stop at nothing to squash the Party. Maybe he should make Italy and Germany mad. They were part of Eurasia... and America was at war with them. If he was able to kill their personifications... the countries would die, and that would be less Eurasia to deal with.

_Unless_... they were at war with _Eastasia_ and in an _alliance _with Eurasia. What if he made a mistake and killed part of his alliance? America rubbed his head. Were they even at war at all?

"Ve... Alfred?" Italy asked. "Are you okay? You're spacing out."

America blinked. "Ah, yes, I'm fine. Um... do you want to come in?" America asked, observing Italy closely. If Italy was hostile, he must be at war with him and the rest of Eurasia. If he was friendly, then either he wasn't at war or he was at war with Eastasia instead.

"Sure!" Italy said, though he looked a little wary as he stepped inside. America frowned at this, wondering what it could mean, even though Italy was only worried about the bombs.

America closed the door behind the pasta-loving nation. "Do you want coffee?"

"Okay," Italy said, and America went to make it.

"Why are you here?" America asked from the kitchen. He waited for Italy's response as he put the coffee into the coffeemaker and got out two mugs. America frowned further as he realized that Italy wasn't answering.

"Feliciano?" America asked, confused, as he peered around the corner into the living room where he had left Italy. Italy jumped and turned around.

"Oh, I'm sorry Alfred!" he apologized. "I came because I was worried! You didn't come to the world conference."

"Alright," America said, giving a slight smile as he went into the kitchen, not providing any further clarification or explanation.

Italy frowned, and turned around again to look at the map that dominated the entire far wall. It wasn't like America's usual maps, that consisted of America and only a few other countries. It was a complete world map. Some of the countries were outlined in red, and some in blue. America and Canada were outlined in green. Italy stepped closer to see the legend:

Green: Oceania

Red: Eurasia

Blue: Eastasia

Italy tilted his head slightly, confused as he rubbed his head. He looked closer and made mental lists of each category, in case that helped explain anything that was going on.

Apparently, Oceania contained America and Canada only.

Eurasia was England, France, Germany, Italy, Switzerland, Norway, Austria, Finland, Sweden, Liechtenstein, Monaco, Belgium, Denmark and Spain. It also included the region formerly known as Prussia.

Eastasia was Russia, China, Japan, Poland, Belarus, Ukraine, Latvia, Lithuania, Estonia, Hungary, Taiwan, Greece, Turkey and Korea.

Why would America classify the countries like this? Italy's eyes traveled to the top of the map, where a question had been written in large, clumsy, almost frantic handwriting with a bold, black Sharpie:

WHICH ONE AM I AT WAR WITH?

Italy shivered, and turned around just as America came into the room with the platter, on which two steaming cups of coffee and various fixings lay. America laid it on the coffee table and sat down in a chair, inviting Italy with a gesture to sit across from him.

Italy nervously and silently fixed his coffee, only looking at America once he had began sipping on the too-hot beverage. America's blue eyes held an unreadable expression in them that had Italy shaking just slightly, creating ripples in his coffee.

"I... ve... have you been well?" Italy asked. America sighed with a tired smile.

"As well as I can be."

"Why didn't you go to the meet-" Italy's inquiry was cut off as another earsplitting explosion was heard. America sat calmly in his seat, watching Italy as he began to panic.

They both sat completely still until the explosion subsided. Italy looked at America and couldn't fight the foreboding feeling he got at America's weary, upturned lips, the strange expression in his eyes that indicated that he was not... all there.

It was a feeling Italy felt only when he spoke to Russia. Which meant, if that was any indication, that something was horribly wrong.

"A-another bomb... are you okay? Why are there bombs going off?" Italy managed to get out, despite the fact that America had been holding his stare for the past few moments without blinking.

"It's necessary," answered America simply, though there was something sinisterly different about his voice.

"For what?"

America's smile widened. "For order."

* * *

"Ludwig!" Italy cried into the room, running into the muscular German, letting out all of the pent up feelings he had suppressed during the conversation with America.

"What's wrong?" Germany asked, surprised as Italy let him go and ran off to find a sheet of paper and a pencil.

"Ludwig, I visited America!" Italy said as he began to scribble down the information he had gotten from the map, as well as a few descriptions about the bombings so he wouldn't forget it.

"Is he okay?" Germany asked.

"Yes... well... no, yes?" Italy paused in his writing, taking a few deep breaths to calm himself down.

Germany looked confused, and then surprised as Italy pushed the piece of paper towards him. Germany picked it up and read it, several times.

"We... we need to show this to the others immediately."


	3. Chapter 3

AN: Bonjou! Welcome to the third installment of 'America is Goodthinkful'. No America screentime this time around, but the awesome Prussia is in it... with all of his... awesomeness... :/ (he is such a strange person... lol but pretty cool nevertheless) Cue Canada confusion, angry-ish England, not-smirky Russia, serious Italy, and every other little thing that will make you tremble with fear beyond your wildest dreams...

* * *

_Riiiiing!_

England got up so quickly that he had to steady himself on the arm of his chair as the blood rushed from his head. Nevertheless, he made it over to the telephone before the second ring was over, and he pressed the receiver eagerly to his ear, praying to God that it was America on the other end.

"_Arthur?_"

England didn't hide his sigh of disappointment as he heard Germany's voice instead.

"Yes, Ludwig?"

"_Meet at the conference house in a half hour. There is something that we all need to discuss as soon as possible._"

England rubbed his eyes. He was weary, and hadn't slept all night because he had been either worrying about America, looking at the old photograph of them, or desperately trying America's phone, with no results.

"I don't feel good, Germany, can't we wait until tomorrow?"

"_It can't_," Germany said firmly. "_I figured that you would be the one who would want to come the most... considering the meeting is about America, after all._"

England immediately felt his tiredness go away and he stood up straighter. "I'll be there right away!"

He hung up, not caring if it came across as rude.

* * *

Germany and Italy had handled further correspondence, and they were waiting, patiently, but eagerly, for the rest of the nations (especially the nations on Italy's list) to file into the room so they could start with their news. England arrived and almost ran Germany over, anxious to hear the news.

"Whoa, wait a moment, Arthur," Germany said, gently pushing England further away so he had some space. "There are a few people who need to arrive."

As if on cue, Finland and Sweden entered together, followed by the large form of Russia, who was smiling like usual. England glared at the three of them for holding up the meeting, even though they only arrived a few moments after he did. Finland looked nervous and huddled closer to Sweden, who looked away from England's gaze as a barely noticeable blush dusted his cheeks. Russia's smile widened as he sat next to China and Lithuania.

"Alright, everyone's here. Could you sit down, England, so we can start?" Germany immediately took control of the conversation, and England sat down, feeling slightly embarrassed.

"Feliciano, you do the honours," said Germany as he gestured for Italy to take the podium.

"_Je suis desolée_... but what is so important that we had to come hear _l'Italie_ speak?" France said, voicing everybody's opinions. Italy wasn't known for contributing much to any of the world meetings, except for the occasional pasta-based solution that was almost as ridiculous as America's giant impossible heroes. The nations were surprised, but also suspicious. Chances were, if Italy was the one to speak, this whole meeting was unnecessary.

"I will tell you," Italy looked at France with an uncharacteristically serious look on his face that immediately made the Frenchman silent. Italy took a deep breath and looked out across the faces of all of his friends.

"I visited America earlier," Italy started nervously, watching as some of the other nations perked up curiously, especially England, whose emerald stare bore into him intensely. "I immediately got a strange feeling upon entering his territory, but I thought that was merely because I hadn't been there in a while."

Italy closed his eyes, reliving the terrifying memories of what he was met with during his visit to America. The bombs, the cold, the carnage... and America himself.

"Ah... Feliciano?" England said, snapping Italy out of his reverie.

"Oh, I'm sorry, ve..." Italy shook himself slightly, wringing his hands as he looked down, unsure of how to explain everything. Germany got up and handed him the paper Italy had written on earlier, to help him get his thoughts together.

"Thank you, Ludwig," said Italy in relief. He took a deep breath and continued.

"Twice during my visit... there was an extremely loud 'boom' and it made my ears hurt. The first time that happened, I was really scared and wondered what it was. Turns out... it was a bomb, and the second one was too."

England's eyes widened. "America's being bombed?!" he responded loudly, making Italy even more nervous. "By whom?" England turned a derisive stare on the other nations in the room, who were, truthfully, just as surprised by the news. Russia didn't even don his trademark smirk when England turned his indignant gaze upon him. "It's you, isn't it?" England snapped to the larger nation, oblivious to how much he was overreacting and Russia's expression of confusion. All he knew was that _his_ little brother was being hurt by _someone_, and he would stop at nothing to find out who it was.

"Arthur, please stop being irrational!" Italy raised his voice. "None of us here are the ones doing it." England looked at Italy in surprise. Italy had never seemed so exasperated before.

"Ah... yes... I apologize..." England calmed down with an expression of shame on his face. "Sorry, Russia..." Russia merely gave a nod to indicate that he understood and forgave him.

"I'm actually not sure who exactly is doing it... but I do know that all of the bombings are confined within America itself... and done by Americans, not by any other country. Anyway... he says that the bombings are necessary for order. I don't know what that means, but it's apparent that America isn't doing anything to control the destruction."

Italy paused a moment to let the information sink in. Arthur and most of the other nations were enraptured by Italy's testimony and silently egging him on to continue.

"He's... he's taken to classifying most of us into different groups. Three, to be exact. Oceania, Eurasia and Eastasia. Oceania is him and Canada."

"Who's Canada?" Romano asked, confused. Canada shyly raised his hand.

"...Um... it's me...," he answered, but nobody seemed to hear him, and he lowered his hand and looked down. Usually he didn't mind being associated with America, unless one of the other countries mistook him for America and beat him up. But now... Canada wasn't sure whether he liked being a part of this Oceania with America... especially if his twin brother was becoming somebody he wasn't.

"Eurasia is England, France, Germany, me, Switzerland, Norway, Austria, Finland, Sweden, Liechtenstein, Monaco, Belgium, Denmark and Spain," Italy listed quickly and methodically.

"Hey, what about the awesome me?" Prussia asked, offended that he wasn't included.

"Ve... you're in that group too."

"Hm... Eurasia just got better."

Italy blinked as the albino looked happy with himself.

"Yes...um... and the rest of you are in Eastasia."

"Why split us up, da?" asked Russia. Italy shrugged in answer.

"We can only know if we ask him personally... but even then he may not give a straight answer."

England quietly sat in his seat, mulling over the information. It was all happening so fast... what would happen if America suddenly just stopped communicating altogether?

"I haven't heard from him or his country in a few months, aru," China decided to provide. "We trade all the time, but we just thought maybe some anti-Chinese sentiment was spreading in their country. Believe me, we're used to that sort of thing by the U.S by now. I guess it's not that, is it?"

Italy shook his head. "He seems to think he's at war with us. Either Eurasia or Eastasia. But at other times, he doesn't seem to think he's at war at all."

Prussia stood up. "There's one way to settle this: march into his not-as-awesome-as-mine territory and ask him ourselves! All at once!"

"No!" Italy said hastily. "We shouldn't overwhelm him. He's obviously confused. We need to tread carefully, and slowly. If we go all at once, he may just attack each one of us."

Prussia sat down, upset but seeing the logic in Italy's confusion.

"Then what do _you _suggest we do?" France asked.

Italy thought for a moment. "We need to go in pairs or threes. That way we won't be alone with him, which will make _us_ uncomfortable, and it will be a manageable-sized group that won't overwhelm _him_. And we should all travel with someone who is from the opposite group. Eastasia with a Eurasia, like that. So then he won't feel inclined to attack either one of us, because he'll have at least one 'ally' there with him. At least, in his mind."

The others nodded, even the reluctant Prussia.

"So... who's going first?" England asked. He was eager to see his little brother... but he wanted to see Alfred alone, without the interference of another person.

"I'll go!" Finland said, earning a worried glance from Sweden. "Japan, would you mind going with me?"

"Ah... hai, if you want," Japan said, almost surprised.

"Alright then, that settled," Germany said authoritatively. "Tomorrow, Tino and Kiku will visit Alfred. Try to bring back as many details about the United States of America as you can."

* * *

AN: This chapter is mainly diatribe... AWESOME! Oh, and I also recommend 'Questions about my past?' by TheblackKat1, for anybody who likes OC stories and Prussia! Her idea is very interesting, and she's also my best friend, so I implore you to consider reading her story! Thanks for reading and have a great day!


	4. Chapter 4

AN: I have returned, my lovely readers! Here is the meeting between America, Japan and Finland. WHOO! Loopdie-doo!America ahead, just so you all know! I really hope you like this one.

* * *

America didn't know whether it was because he did not know the man well, or because he had never previously been particularly close to him.

All he knew was that Finland must be the enemy.

The other one who had accompanied him was somebody that America vaguely recognized even through the foggy haze that had seemed to begin enveloping his brain as of late. He felt mixed feelings toward the Eastasian man, but there was no indication on Japan's part that he was there with malicious intent.

Finland, on the other hand...

His seemingly cordial smile wasn't threatening at first, but as America stared at the blond longer, the smile became a cruel smirk. Finland was taunting him, he was sure.

Eurasia...

He was at war with Eurasia... he _must_ be! Big Brother would be happy that he had finally figured it out...

* * *

\

Finland was nervous, and he could feel how tense Japan seemed as they sat across from America in the same house that had been sat in just recently by Italy. America hadn't said a word at all since they had arrived nearly ten minutes ago, and both of the foreign countries had already experienced the horrors of the incessant bombings that rattled the Earth. Finland was surprised that he couldn't have felt it all the way back in his own country.

But that wasn't what made Finland so nervous. Bombings were scary, sure, but America's nonchalance had the opposite effect on him; he felt calmer when he saw that America wasn't panicking. In fact... America was not doing anything. He had yet to speak.

However, this also was not what made Finland nervous. Sweden did not speak much as it was, and Finland was well-used to a comfortable silence.

The silence he and Japan sat in was far from comfortable.

First of all, Italy's testimony alone was enough to make Finland worry. America was so different than the way he had used to be, and the stark difference was near-alien to the blond nation.

And second, America's stare had not moved from him for the last sev- no, _eight_ minutes, now. He had looked at Japan for a few moments when they had first sat down, then the young nation's eyes had wandered about the house a bit while a bomb went off, and then the almost-cold blue eyes settled on Finland in a never-wavering stare. Finland could swear that America had only blinked thrice in the last eight minutes. The stare was creepy, and Finland could not tell what America was thinking.

So Finland just kept smiling, hoping that his calm attitude and friendliness would be enough to make the other nation relax a little bit; although America seemed quite at home (after all, it _was _his home), there was still a tension in his body that Finland could detect, but he wasn't quite sure why. Maybe the bombings did get to him?

_Just keep smiling, Tino_, he told himself, feeling chills run down his spine as he detected an almost-imperceptible darkening in America's eyes.

"America-san," Japan's quiet voice finally broke the silence, and Finland let out a sigh of relief as the unnerving gaze was lifted from him. "We are worried for your safety."

"There is no reason for you to be concerned about my safety," America relaxed slightly as a hollow smile appeared on his face. "But I appreciate the sentiment."

Finland fought the urge to shudder... America's voice wasn't any different... it almost made him think that nothing was wrong with America at all, if it weren't for the dark undertones that laced his speech like the delicate threads of spider webbing; normally invisible until the dew settles upon it, and then it is easily noticeable and adorned with a ghostly, eerie quality.

"Why have you ceased communication with the others? China-san even says you do not trade with him anymore," Japan continued, trying his best to not make it seem as if he was interrogating the younger nation.

America merely smiled wider, devoid of all mirth, not even a flicker in his dead eyes that indicated if he was annoyed in the slightest. Japan wasn't sure whether that was a good sign or not.

"I have no need with international connections anymore, Kiku-san," America said politely. Japan frowned.

"What do you mean? Why not?" He desperately searched America's eyes for any sign of a joke. He was just anticipating America jumping up and yelling, "PSYCHE" as he cackled in his own obnoxious way... after that incident with America painting his face blue and scaring him... he wouldn't put that sort of stunt past him.

But America did not break the non-existent façade. Instead, he simply replied,

"Big Brother has taken care of everything for us. Our economy has never been better."

And he just left it like that, leaning back as if there was nothing additional to explain.

Japan and Finland both looked at him as if he were crazy. Which... in a sort of sense... he was. America's response had, truly, only raised more questions than it answered.

"But, America, everybody is worried about you!" Finland blurted out. "You can't just stop talking to us! We can help!"

America's formerly calm demeanor seemed to vanish as he chillingly looked at the Finn.

"I've been meaning to ask, Kiku-san. Why is one of _them _accompanying you?"

Japan's eyes widened at the complete change in the cordial tone of America's voice. He knew from Italy's warning that America thought he was at war with somebody, but showing so much blatant hostility to _Finland_? He didn't think there was a person alive without morals who would garner so much animosity towards him! Did this mean that America had finally decided who he was at war with? Eurasia? Japan knew that it was a reckless move, but Finland was tense beside him, so Japan decided to risk his next words.

"What do you mean, Alfred-san?" Japan accentuated his oblivious tone with a hopeful smile that soon waned slightly as America's expression began to grow harsher as he leaned forward slightly.

"You aren't... fraternizing with the enemy, now are you, Japan?" America managed to hiss out.

"N-no! He's with me because he's... ah, surrendered! Hai, ah, I thought you knew."

America's expression lightened up almost instantly as he processed Japan's words.

"Oh, of course I knew that!" He let out a mirthless laugh; although he was smiling, his eyes were still fixed on Finland, and Finland got the frightening feeling that America was not buying Japan's story. Oh, how he wished Berwald were there with him...

* * *

_Don't fall for it Alfred..._ America tensed slightly, oblivious to the looks of concern and wariness coming from the two companions across from him.

What was that? Was it Big Brother? America couldn't fight the glee that made its way into his expression, only confusing Japan and Finland more.

_Big Brother said this morning that the military had incited a near-surrender from the Southern front... but he also said that Eurasia was fighting back with all it had, but so was the Oceanic army, and to commemorate the efforts, the chocolate rations were to be raised to forty grams per week... Wait... but weren't the rations fifty grams last week? No, Big Brother definitely said that they were raised. They must've been thirty grams then. _

Alfred chuckled darkly to himself, partly because of his mistake... he had almost doubted Big Brother! But also, he saw the mistake of his fellow comrade from Eastasia, who were _supposed_ to be his allies!

That conniving Eurasian must have tricked Japan into coming with him, so America would let down his guard and then Finland could end him. There was no other explanation.

He looked back up at the two who were looking at him with confusion and... was that fear?... on their faces.

That's right... America stared at the Finn's lying, deceitful face. How _dare _he waltz into his place of residence, paste that stupid smile on his face, and try to convince America that he was a friend?! He had manipulated one of his own allies! Poor Japan, he must not even realize what he is doing!

America was quite beside himself as he quickly stood up and wrapped his fingers around the Eurasian's throat.

* * *

AN: D:


	5. Chapter 5

AN: Pawr Finland! Makes me so sad, but don't worry! He's not dead or anything (I couldn't bear to do that)!

* * *

"...nd! Finland! Tino-san, please wake up!" Finland coughed and slowly fluttered his eyes open as he felt himself being carried. He blinked a few times to adjust his vision as he looked up, seeing Japan's brown eyes staring down at him in concern. Japan sighed in relief and set him down on a flat, hard, but not totally uncomfortable surface.

"The others will be here momentarily, Tino-san. How do you feel?" Japan asked, wringing his hands nervously as Finland sat up slowly, wishing his vision would stop spinning so he could look about him. After a few moments of adjustment, he found that he was on the long table in the conference-room. He tried to speak, to answer Japan's question, but quickly gave up on that endeavor, because his throat felt like complete and utter hell.

Before Japan could ask him again, several others burst into the room, including England, Germany, Italy, Russia and Sweden, who immediately pushed past the others to go to Finland's side.

Finland weakly smiled at the Swede as he felt himself gently pulled into an embrace. Sweden comfortingly caressed his hair, murmuring, "M' wife..."

Finland was about to instinctively protest at the affectionate title, as per his habit, but gave up as his vocal chords gave horrible protest. Sweden, noticing the lack of sound coming from the smaller male, pulled back, holding Finland at arms-length as he examined him with worry. He came across the bruises already forming around the blond's throat. The expression in Sweden's eyes, if intimidating before, was now murderous, and Japan subconsciously backed away as the well-hidden ire continue to burn in the blue depths.

"What happened?" Sweden asked with a clipped tone of voice.

"Ano...," Japan fidgeted uncomfortably as he glanced to Finland and back again. "A-alfred-san sort of... attacked him."

"Why?" asked England, eyes wide upon hearing the news, although he had guessed as such. He didn't want to believe it. Alfred wouldn't just _attack_ something... what in the good Lord's world was wrong?

"He's decided that he's at war with Eurasia, and that Eastasia is an ally, I think," Japan mumbled, trying to avoid Sweden's burning, angry gaze. Finland tried to cough a little bit, and Sweden immediately turned to the smaller male, his normally stoic face overflowing with concern.

Japan cleared his throat. "I... was only able to get Alfred-san off of him by stabbing him... so..."

England rounded on the Asian man in shock. "You _stabbed_ Alfred?! How could you?!"

Japan grit his teeth. "There was a kitchen with knives nearby! Alfred-san was strangling an unconscious Tino-san... what else was I supposed to do? Would you have let Tino-san die? Because I don't think Alfred-san had any qualms about finishing him!"

Japan's yelling caused England's previous anger towards him to melt away. If Japan was yelling... England sighed and rubbed his face with his hand.

"You're right...," he conceded softly. "I'm sorry."

"Iie... it's my fault," Japan said. "Gomen-nasai for yelling at you."

"We're all just confused and in shock," Germany cut in. "What we need to do is figure out what we are going to do next."

"Si!" Italy agreed. "If Eastasia is his ally, then Eastasians should visit him, right? Then we can find out what's wrong!"

"Nyet," Russia said, his eyes dark with thought. "Kiku stabbed him... and it would not be surprising if Alfred did not trust us anymore. He would probably think that Kiku's attack was an attack on the entire behalf of his Eastasian allies, and that we are allying with Eurasia instead and betraying him, da?"

Japan looked guilty as he saw the logic in Russia's words. "Then there is nobody he'll trust, then?"

"Not unless we go in secret!" Italy suggested.

Germany narrowed his eyes, thinking over Italy's idea. "Maybe..."

"Ah, I know somebody who can communicate with America without being seen as an enemy. It is obvious, da?" Russia smiled as most of the other nations collectively and unconsciously shivered.

"Um... who?" England asked, obviously confused. _He _certainly couldn't think of anybody. And now it was clear that there was no chance that America would trust _him_, seeing as how he nearly choked Finland to death, a nation that America had never had a major issue with before. If only France had opted to go with Japan instead... England snapped himself out of his disturbing thoughts before he started laughing for no apparent reason.

Russia glanced to his left for a moment (England had no idea why), before answering.

"Matvey, of course."

"Who?"

Canada (when he arrived is unbeknownst to anybody save for Russia, who seemed strangely perceptive of the younger nation's presence) raised his hand slightly and spoke with his characteristically soft voice,

"That's me. Canada."

England stared towards the direction of the voice until he finally noticed his former colony. "Oh, of course. I apologize, Matthew. I didn't notice you there."

"It's okay..." Canada responded, but the soft-spoken reply was lost in Italy's exclamation of comprehension.

"Of course! Canada is in the same group as America! It probably wouldn't be too unusual for Canada to want to visit him every once in a while."

Canada felt strange as the attention was turned to him for once. He wasn't used to being in the spotlight. He scanned each of the faces: Italy's beaming one, Germany's thoughtful expression, England's apologetic one, Russia's... usual face, Sweden's once-again stoic demeanor, and Finland's worried face.

"Um..." Canada shifted from foot to foot.

"Are you up for the challenge?" asked Germany, finally.

"W-we... can't s-send... h...him in... th-there... al-alone!" Finland croaked out despite the pain in his throat, drawing the attention of Sweden, who rubbed Finland's arm.

"He's right," Sweden said. "Who knows wh't'll happ'n to him?"

"I agree with Berwald-san," Japan seconded. "We should keep away from Alfred-san until we know what exactly is going on in his country. Sending more unexpected visitors will just make things worse. He could become suspicious of us."

Canada nodded shakily. He loved his brother, even though America always forgot him, but with recent events and what happened to Finland... he was not sure if he wanted to see America at the moment. But, at the same time, it was apparent that something was terribly wrong...if none of America's friends came to his aid, what would happen to him?

"Ah... _je sais pas_..." Canada muttered to himself, missing the questioning look that Russia alone gave him.

"So... Matthew-kun... are you comfortable about visiting Alfred-san?" Japan finally asked, and the other nations stared at him, waiting in anticipation for his answer.

Canada thought about it carefully. If he accepted, he ran the risk of being attacked by America himself while he was in his unstable state, whether he was part of his Oceania or not. But he would also draw attention away from the rest of the countries if they decided to go to the U.S secretly to find out what political insurgences were occurring. If he declined, the other countries could be at risk. And... America was his brother. If he chose not to go, he would only be turning his back on him. America could never have a chance to get better if there was nobody to support him.

He straightened, determined. His decision was made.

"I'll go."

"Yay!" Italy gave Canada an unexpected hug. "Now the rest of us can go undercover! It'll be fun!" Italy had seemingly forgotten about the chaos he had witnessed only days earlier.

"It will most certainly _not _be fun!" England chided. "But... I don't think we have another choice. If we don't know what's going on, we won't be able to help Alfred at all." And that thought was... frankly, terrifying.

Meanwhile, America nursed his smarting wound from the stab Japan had given him, staring at the map decisively. _Heh, _he thought, smirking. _They thought what they had already was war? It's time to show them what war Oceania can _truly _wage!_

* * *

_AN: _I SWEAR I DID NOT INTENTIONALLY PUT SOME MAYBE KINDA SORTA RUSCAN IN THERE! (Okay maybe a little, hey IT'S CUTE!) At least Canada gets some screen time once in a while, mon dieu! Some people just FORGET him, y'know, just like THAT and it's so sad! -completely disregarding that _because_ he isn't noticed much in the anime, Canada has a pretty big fanbase...-

Foreign language note: _Je sais pas_ means 'I don't know'. The more correct way to say it would be _Je ne sais pas_, but in casual speaking, people sometimes drop the _ne_ and just say the _pas_. Oooh, a friend of mine, who is a big language buff, told me that the _ne_... _pas_ structure came because people couldn't hear the original negating _ne_ in the expression _je ne marche_ (I do not walk), so they added _pas_ at the end to make the negation more noticeable. _Pas_, when not used for negation, normally means 'step' (hence it being used to signify that somebody does not 'walk'). I suppose it just evolved into the common negating expression it is today.

Sorry for my rambling! If there are any French-speakers who notice any inaccuracies with the above information, I'll be glad to know the right story! Thanks for reading!


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